Prequel to the Wisdom
by Sydelle
Summary: This is basically a record of Dumbledore's life, from the time he was about three years old to the Dumbledore we know and love today. Who exactly was Grindelwald? Why did he hate Voldemort THAT much? R&R to find out!


**Prequel to the Wisdom**

Intro:

Hi everyone! I know it's really bad of me to be slacking off on Septieme Amour, but I got an idea for a better story. This one! It's about Albus Dumbledore and basically explores his life that eventually leads to the Dumbledore we all know and love today (he may be WAY out of character, but remember, he was young, and something tells me he was VERY different when he was young. Ok, fine, just when he said, "I forgot what it was like to be young." Or something. But you know). I got the idea on the road trip to California, where I am now living. Can't say much about my new environment as a) you don't care, b) I don't know what I think about it either and c) I have to get on with the story, which is VERY much angstier than S/A. Oh, and this doesn't mean that I'll be giving up on Septieme Amour, as it'll definitely still be my first priority, but I'll be juggling with two stories at once. Alright, enough gibberish.

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**Chapter One: Hide and Seek**

Amidst the low voices and gentle clinking of butterbeer bottles in the Hog's Head, a small boy peeked out from underneath his mother's silk cloak.

His bright blue eyes surveyed his surroundings, mind working furiously about the whereabouts of his brother.

A small tug on his mother's hand signalled his leave from the table.

He begun walking around in the warm smoke, knee bumping occasionally on the dark polished wood of a chair leg.

"Aber?" he called, though his voice was not more pronounced than constant shifting sounds from the chairs.

A looming witch looked down in astonishment as the three-year-old boy began picking at something on the floor. She was obviously not from the area as her robes were patched, faded, and of a rather orange shade, like most witches and wizards who lived far away; in the country. She kneeled down across from the child.

"What's your name little one?" she asked, a friendly smile playing on her lips.

There was some hesitation before the boy answered, "I'm Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore miss."

The lady laughed.

"Well! Mr. Albus Dumbledore, my name is Petra Cheryl Mary Ingla Van Siri. But you could just call me Petra."

"Ok." Albus nodded, "You can call me Albus."

He paused, contemplating whether or not to say what he had in mind. He decided to blurt it out.

"You're really BIG, Petra."

She looked surprised, then said, laughing (just slightly), "You're small though."

Albus nodded. "That's what mama says."

There was a strange expression on Petra's face that quickly vanished when she asked, "Speaking of which, where're your parents? You aren't lost, are you?"

"Oh, my mama's over there." Albus pointed.

Petra nodded, though she wasn't looking in her direction.

"You're a bit young though, to be in the Hog's Head."

Albus shrugged and said abruptly, "Hey! Petra means rock!"

Now it was Petra's turn to shrug. "So? Dumbledore means bumblebee."

Albus thought for a while and announced that bees are one of his favourite pets.

Petra shuddered. "Bees? As pets? They're very hardworking I suppose. And especially busy. Right Albus?"

"I dunno. They could be."

Petra smiled and asked him what he was doing, wandering around.

"My brother and I are playing hide-and seek. He's hiding... somewhere."

"Oh?" Her face darkened for a second, like she was inwardly scolding someone, but then she smiled and said she'd help him look.

"He's a year older than me." Albus said when Petra asked for a description. Then added, "And he has my eyes."

Petra chuckled.

"But Albus... Do you think he's outside?" Petra asked, after an hour of fervent searching in vain.

Albus scratched his chin and looked at his mother at the other side of the Hog's Head, laughing with her friends.

"I don't know, I'll have to ask mama."

"OK." Petra sat down by the counter. She looked as Albus walked away and wiped her palms on her robes. Petra brushed away a thick strand of her dark hair away from her prominent green eyes. Albus continued walking, slightly wobbly, towards his mother, who nodded subconsciously, too absorbed in her heated conversation with her friends.

"Hm... He's rather... 'wobbly' for his age." Petra thought silently.

Just then a cynical thought drew a reluctant smile to Petra's face; she shook it off horrified, and muttered, her green eyes wide and frightened, "Sherliopoh, sherliopoh, sherliopoh" to herself over and over again.

Albus returned and said that they could go.

Then, to her surprise, Albus' abnormally large fingers grabbed her hand. Petra was slightly stunned for a moment, feeling Albus' cold fingers against her warm ones. Then she walked to the exit of the Hog's Head, the little boy by her side.

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**A/N:**

By the way, sherliopoh doesn't mean anything in another language... At least I don't think so, it's not supposed to. But sherliopoh does mean quite a lot to the actual story. Hm... Review please! PLEASE!!!!!!!


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